Nuts and mangoes

The sun rose on its usual time, shining brightly and dispersing those rays all over my village and that used to be my wake up call. I didn't have the royalty to sleep on those mattresses with the soft blanket that gave a sound sleep. I was happy with my charpoy ( woven cots) which gave me a body ache sometimes and reminded me of my daily life and the hardship. The hut was small and couldn't accommodate all four of us in my family. Appa and amma used to be tired after the whole day hard work and chechi ( elder sister ) was not allowed to sleep outside. So, it became my duty to sleep under the moon and stars. I used to keep staring at those stars and how they would be twinkling. Looking at that moon, I would wonder so many stories. I always kept observing people, their life, their daily chores or their work. It made me write and express more, but then family and responsibility came in between. Poverty engulfed us so much that all these stories got vanished. I couldn't do anything.

After my school hours, I would spend an hour near the lake sitting and observing those waters. Legs dipped in the water and the shades of those coconut trees, it was a perfect picturesque that I wanted to give my hand a motive of writing. There used to be a couple of coconut sellers where the villagers would come and sip those coconut water. But, my work in that one hour or so would be just observing them in that environment and prosper my mind with stories. Thoughts rushed, stayed and went but none of them would give me what I desired and in this meantime, my time would pass and I would turn and walk towards my small hut where my daily sorrowful life would be waiting to hug me. 

But, every day there would be someone observing me sitting under a tree. Selling crunchy groundnuts and raw mangoes, she would watch me from a distance. I would see her, stare at her and would be lost in my own world. Days passed and the same thing would happen each and every time. One day, she signaled towards me and called me by waving her hands. 

"Does those stories in your mind, will ever take any shape ?", she asked.

"How do you know all these things? I have never told anyone.", I told.

"You get lost in your world and that happens with storytellers and writers only.", she smiled.

"I want to give a shape to my thoughts, but it is just not possible. Studies, family, life... everything gets mixed up.", I told.

"Before that, you should free those strangled stories and get your thoughts clear."

"And how can I do that? "

"Come and sit near this lake every day along with me while I do my business.These nuts and mangoes will help you.", saying this she packed up her things and started walking.

I needed someone and she became my companion. I would sit beside her and listen to her each and every day-to-day story. Sometime she would say about a milkman and on the other time about that fish living in those waters. She would take me through the history of coconut trees and how our village got its name. Also, she would say how much he loved her husband and got married to him. I would just sit beside her and note these simple stories at the back pages of my notebooks with a blunt shady pencil. One day I asked her that,

"why do you sell such a weird combo of nuts and mangoes to people."

"I just use it for my business and sell both of them. I have never told them to buy nuts and mangoes together. There are some people who buy either of the two, others buy both and there is a third party who see both of them and buy neither of the delicacies. I just portray, it is their wish to choose whether to buy or not. Just same as our life, millions of ways... just to see which one to choose.", saying this she handed me over few pieces of mangoes and nuts and left packing her filthy bag.

I smiled and said goodbye to her. To which she turned and stooped.

"Don't say anything while going and especially not this word.", she said.

"Why? Does it hurt you or makes you weak?"

"No, actually goodbyes are never good and if also we don't meet tomorrow, then I would like to remember you with your smile or any other word. Actually, a goodbye becomes a temporary full stop, sometimes even permanent.", saying this she walked away.

It was my routine to go to her and sit there learning something usual, yet unusual to me. Years passed by and those mangoes and nuts became a part of my life. I kept inhaling her stories and churning them into some good productive writing. Chechi had started working by stitching clothes and appa had managed to save some money for my studies. It was my time to move to a town or city and study further which meant that my companion would be detached. I went as usual to her and said her about my further studies. She smiled and parceled some good mangoes and nuts and gave me for my journey.

"Remember, one day your story will be read by millions and appreciated. But unfortunately, I cannot do that."

"Why? I will give you the first copy."

"But, I don't know how to read and write. Just now how to speak.", she laughed.

I still remember that day as she didn't sit there for the whole evening and left after giving me those mangoes and nuts. After that day, I kept remembering her and her words. Stories continued to flow and it took me some years to make it to a bigger platform. The approach was good and the result was heartwarming. Fame, money, and happiness came into my life and everything got changed.

I always wanted to go once and meet her and say all these things but couldn't go due to my work and busy schedule. Life changed after that and poverty that I had seen in my family from childhood, started waving out.

Many years after it was a golden day when I visited my village to show my son, my childhood days. I showed him my school, our house, my friends and our relatives. At night, I made sure to get a charpoy where I would show him how my days went when I was small. I pointed those twinkling stars, where I stared every time.

Next day, we walked towards the lake to show him my favorite place. He was happy to see the place with such a quiet and peaceful surrounding. As he saw the place running here and there, I just looked at that tree where my companion used to sit and tell me her stories. Suddenly, my son asked me a question.

"Appa, how did you write such wonderful stories sitting here? What inspired you so much that you sat here? "

I just smiled and replied, "Nothing much son, Just some nuts and mangoes."